


Hit or Mistletoe

by Raepocalypse



Category: GOT7
Genre: Holidays, M/M, Mistletoe, everyone kisses yugyeom and jinyoung is jealous, he did this to himself, this is a very late holiday au but i got what i got
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-10-06 14:20:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17346785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raepocalypse/pseuds/Raepocalypse
Summary: Jinyoung has a plan, but he absolutely has not thought through the consequences of it. At least, not the consequences of the other members getting involved. Even when they just to help, it all goes downhill very quickly.Yugyeom just wants to know why he's the only one who keeps getting caught under the mistletoe.[Edit] I changed the name from Guided Mistle(toe) because I needed to hit that meme





	Hit or Mistletoe

**Author's Note:**

> I really just wanted to get my groove back. I don't even know if I like this, but it's 18 pages of something and the tag is dead enough that I just want to contribute. I hope yall enjoy it anyway~

“Hyung, what are you doing?” Yugyeom asked, staring at the man standing on the stool and fussing with something over the doorway. The doorway he was blocking. 

 

“Decorating,” Jinyoung said shortly.

 

“We already decorated,” he sighed back, leaning against the wall. He wasn’t about to try and get past him when he was up there. He could wait another few moments. 

 

Jinyoung hummed back and finally lowered his arms, looking down at the younger man. It wasn’t often he was able to do that and there was something odd in his eyes now. Yugyeom wondered if it was because he was relishing being taller. After a few moments of staring, he cleared his throat and looked away, stepping down from the stool and moving down the hall. “We didn’t have mistletoe before,” he replied. 

 

Yugyeom’s brows shot up and he ducked through the doorway to see a little sprig hung, a tiny red bow at the top of the dangling decoration. “Mistletoe?” he asked, mildly alarmed. “Hyung, what for? There’s only the two of us in the house now!”

 

Jinyoung ignored him, climbing up to start fastening another sprig above the kitchen doorway. He didn’t say anything at all until Yugyeom prompted him again. “The others are coming over later. For a holiday party.”

 

Why didn’t he know that? Had he forgotten? Frowning, he looked at his phone, checking the group chat for any missed messages. Nothing about a party. “When? I didn’t know. Is it for a fan video?”

 

“We’ll do a vlive while it’s happening, obviously,” Jinyoung replied with a roll of his eyes. As though that was a stupid question. “You know the fans love skinship.”

 

His brow furrowed a little further, head cocked curiously. He moved closer and looked up at where Jinyoung was standing on his toes to arrange the mistletoe the way he wanted. At a little wobble, Yugyeom raised a hand, steadying him by the waist. Jinyoung tensed under his hand for a moment, but he wrote it off as surprise. “Will we not get in trouble for doing a lot of kissing on camera?”

 

“Only if we do too much,” he said, his voice a little strained. At this point, Yugyeom wasn’t even sure what he was doing up there anymore. Fussing with the bow still, it seemed. He stayed where he was, though, hand dutifully keeping Jinyoung steady by the waist. 

 

Looking around, Yugyeom spotted a sprig hanging over the fridge from the ceiling, one down the hall over JB’s old room.  Exactly how many had he put all over the house? How many had he done while Yugyeom had been showering and getting dressed? “Jinyoung, how many are there in the house?” he asked, a note of worry in his voice. 

 

Finally, Jinyoung lowered his arms, turning around to look at him again. When Yugyeom’s hand started to slide away, now that he was steady again, he covered it with his own and drew his confused gaze back to himself. “Don’t worry. It’s just us here. Nobody is going to do something you don’t want. It’s just for fun.”

 

Yugyeom tried not to look concerned, tried not to flush at the look Jinyoung was giving him, but Jinyoung was just  _ so _ good at making him feel flustered. Especially when he gave him soft looks like this one, especially when he lifted a hand from where it covered Yugyeom’s on his waist, especially when he put that hand on his cheek and brushed his thumb gently over his cheek. 

 

“Gyeom-ah,” he said softly, barely a whisper. “We’re under the mistletoe.”

 

Yugyeom started at that, his brows lifting sharply. “What?” he asked. Maybe he should have thought they would kiss. Maybe he should have been worried about that. Instead, he worried immediately that Jinyoung was teasing him, that Jinyoung would goad him into a kiss and then ask him what he was doing with that shocked face he loved to employ. 

 

“The mistletoe,” Jinyoung said again. The hand on Yugyeom’s cheek led him a little closer and without thinking, he followed it. His face was growing warm, heating under Jinyoung’s palm and his eyes were wide. “You have to kiss under the mistletoe,” he murmured, then dipped down and pressed his lips against Yugyeom’s forehead tightly. It lingered for a few moments before he let it go and stood up straight. 

 

Yugyeom’s face was burning, eyes wide. It was nothing, just a forehead kiss, but he felt warm and stunned still. His hand was curled tighter against Jinyoung’s side, clutching him unbidden. Then, almost expectedly, Jinyoung’s eyes widened to the falsely innocent, shocked look he favored when teasing the maknae. “Gyeomie, you aren’t wearing that to a holiday party, are you? Don’t you have anything more festive?”

 

That wasn’t what Yugyeom had been expecting, but to be fair he wasn’t really sure what he actually was expecting after a kiss like that. At the very least, though, it broke the tension and both boys dropped their hands, Jinyoung prodding him to go back to his room and change while Yugyeom whined loudly and dragged his feet. He didn’t even know  _ when _ the party was supposed to start. How had he not known about it at all? Was he supposed to have gotten someone a gift? He had ideas for what to get for a few of his hyungs, but he hadn’t gotten them yet.

 

After changing (again), Yugyeom came out of his room and peeked into the kitchen where Jinyoung was preparing what seemed to be a lot of food with a slightly frantic air about him. “Jinyoungie?” he asked, head cocked. Jinyoung whipped around, flour on his cheek and a spoon in his hand. “Do you need help?”

 

“What? No. Just get ready, Gyeom,” he said firmly, turning back to the food. “Mark is on his way, he’s going to give me a hand.”

 

“I am ready. Why are you just now starting if you knew about the party?” he huffed. Coming closer, he peeked into the bowl to see cookie coming along, as well as something on the stove and the rice cooker going. 

 

Jinyoung smacked his hand as he reached for a bit of dough. “I was busy,” he snapped. The tone was the one he used right before a comeback, the one he used when the younger boys pushed him too hard when they were over tired. Stress. What was he so stressed about? 

 

“Do we have activities? Should I have gotten gifts for the hyungs?” he asked carefully, moving just a little away to try and give Jinyoung some space to breathe. At the flicker of distress, he moved in again. Sometimes Jinyoung needed space and other times he needed the skinship more than he would admit. Yugyeom didn’t question it. They all needed comfort sometimes. 

 

Yugyeom’s warm hand on his back didn’t seem to help much, but he still leaned into it. “We’re going to… decorate cookies,” he said slowly, as though he wasn’t sure. “And watch a Christmas movie. Mark likes to watch those American ones a lot. No gifts, though. We um. We didn’t get time to do that.” 

 

It didn’t inspire a lot of confidence in Yugyeom. This didn’t sound fun for fans to watch. They would do a recording in the middle of it, though, and fans always like that. (Even if they just sit around and talk and read comments.) Cookies are always a good idea, though. 

 

“I’ll make cocoa,” Yugyeom decided abruptly. They don’t all like cocoa, mostly just him, so he figured he could make that and maybe a pot of tea for the others. He moved away from Jinyoung and was pleased to see him relax. 

 

It took a while, but eventually, as they move around one another in the kitchen, Jinyoung started to calm down again. The sweater he made Yugyeom put on got flour on it and he knows he’ll have to change again. It was worth it for how Jinyoung laughed at him and covered his mouth. Yugyeom abandoned the cocoa half finished so he could help Jinyoung with the cookies and the meal. Jinyoung made icing in different colors and while Yugyeom had his hands full of cookie dough, he smeared red on the top of his nose and told him he made a pretty Rudolph. Yugyeom whined  just in time for the door to open and a couple of their bandmates to pile inside with a shouted greeting. 

 

“What are you two doing in the kitchen?” Bambam asked, poking his head in and then laughing at Yugyeom. He looked an awful mess, with flour on his sweater and in his hair, red icing on his nose, and raw cookie dough coating his hands. 

 

Jackson rounded the corner right behind him and laughed too, high pitched and cheery and a little manic before he bounded forward and grabbed Yugyeom’s face. He whined when the man pressed a short, somewhat silly kiss to the tip of his nose and came away with red frosting on his lips. When Mark came around as well, he looked once at Yugyeom with a red nose, once at Jackson with red smeared lips and waggling brows, once at a grinning Jinyoung with a red finger and then booked it to the other end of the dorm. Jackson broke off after him and all at once, the dorm has come to life again. 

 

Not that Yugyeom didn’t like living with just Jinyoung. He loved it. He and Jinyoung have been the Tom and Jerry pair for years, but it’s more than that and it always has been. As often as he says he’ll kill him, he makes sure he eats enough and gets rest. As often as he shoves him away, he pulls him close and holds him on the sofa. As often as he makes fun of his looks, he tells him he’s beautiful. Most importantly, more often than he ignores him, he gives him his full attention. He doesn’t push for him to speed up and get to the point. He doesn’t lead him to conclusions. Jinyoung has always waited for him, has given him time to be himself, even if that often ends up in teasing or shyness. Yugyeom values it, to say the least. Loves it, to say a little more. 

 

But still, it was quiet living with just Jinyoung. He and Jinyoung have loud moments - himself especially - but they were both much quieter than most of their members. It was nice to hear the dorm filled with footsteps and laughter and shouting. It was nice to feel like his family is there. 

 

“Go play with your hyungs, Yugyeom,” Jinyoung told him softly, smearing a little more icing on his nose. “I’ll finish up in here.”

 

“Yeah, I’ll help,” Bambam said abruptly, still leaning against the doorway and watching the pair of them. “I had something to ask Jinyoung-hyung anyway.” His eyes were trained on the man at Yugyeom’s side, sharp and teasing although Yugyeom didn’t know what there is to tease him for. 

 

“I don’t need help, Bambam,” Jinyoung replied stiffly. His hands, messy with icing and flour and powdered sugar and all kinds of things landed on Yugyeom’s already-ruined sweater and started to shove him out of the kitchen. “I want all of you to get out of-”

 

“Oh, look!” Jackson’s voice cut through. “You hung mistletoe!”

 

Yugyeom looked up. He was in the kitchen doorway again. “Oh,” he said softly. It was already started. Great. The hands on his shoulders recoiled so fast he heard Jinyoung run into the counter.

 

Turning, he glanced at Bambam, who was giving Jinyoung the most intense look anyone could give another human while trying to hold back laughter. “You put up mistletoe,  _ hyung _ ?” he asked, grinning the way Pudding does when the cat catches the toy it wants. Or when it sees a toy it isn’t supposed to have. 

 

Yugyeom sighed deeply, wiping his nose on his sleeve to get rid of the icing again. The sweater was already such a mess it wouldn’t matter. “I already did this once today. Can’t someone else do it?”

 

“You did?” Mark asked, brows raising. 

 

He nodded, shifting uncertainly. He and Bambam were both in the doorway, undeniably, but he didn’t want to do it again. And besides, kissing Bambam’s forehead would be weird. “Yeah, when Jinyoung was hanging it. I helped a little.”

 

The statement was met with such a long silence it made Yugyeom uncomfortable all over again, and now in a way he couldn’t place as easily. “I’m just gonna go change,” he started, ducking out of the doorway toward the hall, only to be caught and pushed back by both Mark and Jackson. 

 

“Now, if the tradition is already started, you can’t just ignore it,” Jackson said firmly.

 

Mark nodded solemnly, but he wasn’t looking at Yugyeom. He was staring into the kitchen at Jinyoung, who was staunchly ignoring all three of them and stirring something too-vigorously on the stove. “Tradition is important, Gyeomie,” he said finally. 

 

Yugyeom groaned as he was placed firmly back into the doorway where Bambam was still waiting for him. With a deep sigh, he started to lean down prepared to kiss him on the forehead and knowing already that his face was burning from even such a small contact. It was like Kiss the Radio all over again. 

 

Only it wasn’t. It wasn’t at all, because there were no fans and no cameras and no punishments. There was no lipstick to leave an embarrassing mark on his face. (like there was a red smear on Mark’s cheek, although Yugyeom doubted that happened because of mistletoe.) Most importantly, while Yugyeom was still embarrassed of things like this, Bambam had grown out of that long ago. So before he could reach his forehead, Bambam pulled back and slipped a hand to the back of his neck. He tugged him down sharply and pressed his soft lips soundly against Yugyeom’s. 

 

The shock of it made Yugyeom’s brows shoot up, eyes opening wide. He didn’t move, didn’t run from the contact, but he could feel his cheeks and ears heating up quickly. Jackson let out a howl of appreciation and Mark hooted with laughter as Bambam was yanked away from him. Further into the kitchen, Jinyoung was wiping an entire palm of green icing over Bambam’s face while he shrieked about his clothes. 

 

“Oh, great idea, Jinyoungie,” Jackson laughed, clapping slowly. “Oh, tonight will be fun.”

 

***

 

By the time Youngjae and Jaebeom arrived, everyone in the house had been dragged into the icing war and half of them had gone through the shower already. Mark and Jackson were the least covered, so they had just washed their faces and changed into old clothes left behind at the dorm. Bambam had gone into the shower first, because he was Bambam and whined the loudest. Jinyoung went next, because he was the hyung and also because he needed to finish the food and it was a good time for him to go. Yugyeom was just coming out of the shower when they came in and smiled in greeting when Jaebeom passed him in the hall toward his old room.

 

“Ah!” Youngjae yelled, pointing. 

 

Yugyeom looked up to where he was pointing. Mistletoe.  _ Right over his room _ . “I’m not under it!” he said quickly, backpedaling and nearly tripping over his feet in his hurry. Thank god he had more than a towel wrapped around his waist, but he’d put on pants and no shirt for the trip to his room. 

 

“You are,” Youngjae insisted, starting down the hall. “You and Jaebeom are. You have to kiss.”

 

“We don’t have to kiss,” Jaebeom sighed, rolling his eyes lightly. 

 

Jackson appeared at the end of the hall. “You do! It’s tradition!”

 

From behind him, they heard Mark yell, “Traditions are important!”

 

One more face appeared in the hallway, Jinyoung staring at the pair of them with an unreadable expression on his face. Yugyeom sighed. “Jinyoungie let me just do a forehead kiss. Can we do something like that instead?”

 

“Did you do some other kind of kiss?” Jaebeom asked, raising an accusatory eyebrow at Jackson.

 

He gasped, a hand pressed to his chest. “I didn’t kiss him! Bambam did!”

 

“And it was just giving him a kiss under the mistletoe,” the second youngest said, shrugging from the sofa. 

 

Jinyoung turned and shot him a glare before turning back to the pair of them. “You don’t have to do it, Yugyeommie,” he said firmly. 

 

Jaebeom sighed again, reaching up to grip the back of Yugyeom’s head and guiding him down. It was a fleeting touch of lips against his cheek, but it made Yugyeom’s face flare with heat for their leader to kiss him at all. It felt like they didn’t get close like that much. “There you go,” he said simply. “Good enough?”

 

“Good enough!” Youngjae crowed happily, darting past Jaebeom to tease the maknae. Behind him, Jinyoung was glaring holes through his best friend with Jackson leaning close and poking fun at him. 

 

“Can I go finish changing?” Yugyeom whined, shoving Youngjae away while he laughed. He didn’t wait for an answer as he ducked into the room and started looking for some other clothes that could be deemed as  _ holiday _ themed. When the door opened again, he turned with a whine already on his lips. He let it die when he saw Bambam with a sheepish smile. 

 

Without much hesitation, he crossed and started looking through Yugyeom’s clothes. “Can I help you find something?” he asked, cutting a look over. when Yugyeom nodded and took a seat on the bed, he turned his back and started giving the items careful consideration. “Sorry, by the way. About the kiss.”

 

“It’s okay,” Yugyeom shrugged. “I can’t believe you kissed me for real, though.”

 

Bambam let out a laugh and tossed a pair of pants at him, tight skinnies that would be hard to peel off later. He knew better than to argue, though. Besides, it was only for a few hours, until this party was over. “It’s gonna be a long night for you.”

 

Frowning as he hopped into the pants, he huffed, “What’s that supposed to mean? Everyone has to do it, right?”

 

The other man hummed, pulling out a few sweaters and hanging them side by side to give them a better look. “Yeah, but you’re the maknae.”

 

He groaned. They always used that as an excuse to give him hell. (He used it as an excuse to give  _ them _ hell too, but he liked it less the other way around.) “Nobody else will kiss me for real, though, right?”

 

When Bambam turned to give him a sweater, dark green with a wide neck and a little too long in the sleeves, the look he gave him was so sympathetic he flushed. “I hate this fucking family,” he mumbled, yanking the sweater on over his head. 

 

“You love this fucking family,” Bambam corrected, pushing Yugyeom down on the bed and grabbing his make up bag. “Now hold still. You need to look pretty.”

 

“For the vlive? The fans?”

 

A soft laugh, one Yugyeom couldn’t decipher the meaning of. “Sure. For the fans.”

 

***

 

Yugyeom came out of the bedroom again slowly. Carefully. Like he was going to be attacked any moment. He kept several steps behind Bambam too, just in case. His eyes stayed trained upward, keeping an eye out for more mistletoe. He didn’t want to be caught again. 

 

“What are you doing?” a deep voice asked from his right, making him jump and back up quickly. Mark raised a brow at him, eyes scanning over him in a way that felt incredibly appraising. “Why are you so dressed up?”

 

“Bambam picked it,” he explained, relaxing some. Mark was probably one of the safe ones. When he started walking again, he followed along. “Did you know about the party beforehand, hyung?” he asked quietly. Mark turned one of those unreadable expressions on him and he regretted it. 

 

“Did you not?” he asked, and Yugyeom didn’t think that was an answer, but it sure sounded like one. Maybe he  _ was _ the only one who didn’t know about it. 

 

Fuck. 

 

He shook his head, trying not to feel small and a little stupid for not knowing. Forgetting? He wasn’t sure. Why wasn’t there any mention before today? Had he missed it? Why hadn’t there been any preparation?

 

“Gyeomie,” Mark said softly, putting a hand on his arm. “It’s okay. You didn’t need to do anything for it anyway. We all, uh, sort of dropped the ball, you know? We didn’t even set anything up before. Don’t worry about it.”

 

He nodded, rubbing the back of his neck and moving to the wall. He leaned against it with a sigh and looked down at his hands. “If I had known I would have helped set up for it, you know? I don’t remember anybody mentioning it.”

 

Mark nodded, leaning against the wall as well. “It’s okay. You didn’t need to. We haven’t… talked about it much anyway, you know?” He glanced at the room at large, watching the rest of them getting set up to record. “Come on, looks like we’re getting ready.” He took the maknae’s hand and let him to the sofa, pushing him down onto the end near Jinyoung, where he promptly wound up with an arm around his shoulders followed by a lap full of Youngjae. His arms wound around him automatically, even as he sank against Jinyoung’s side. 

 

Bambam was the best at framing, so he was the one who filmed it. The surprise live was started with a shout of all seven of them wishing season’s greetings to everyone. It was sweet. It was fun. Lives always were. They told the fans they were having a holiday party, that they were just getting started, that there would be another live as they decorated cookies, that they would eat and watch a movie and maybe the fans could help them pick something to watch. They read messages. They made fun of one another. They answered a few questions. It was nice. It was comfortable. 

 

“There’s a surprise, too!” Bambam crowed. The arm around him, the one that had relaxed over the course of the video and slid around his neck to pull him closer for a proper cuddle, tensed and pulled him a little closer. 

 

“What’s the surprise?” he asked, confusion apparent on his face he sat up some, but was held in place by Youngjae’s weight on his lap. 

 

“It’s for the fans,” Jackson said brightly, darting back to their side of the couch and stretching a hand over their heads. In it was one of the tiny sprigs of mistletoe, tied with a careful little bow. The grin on his face was gleeful and mischievous and when Bambam moved a little closer, Yugyeom could see the chat exploding. 

 

“Jackson,” Jinyoung said simply, and it was the tone that always made Yugyeom regret whatever trouble he was getting into. It made him nervous to have that arm around him now, to be trapped under Youngjae, who looked delighted. Like a puppy in his lap ready to give affection to whoever was nearest. 

 

_ He _ was nearest. 

 

Jackson ignored the tone Jinyoung used, however, and ducked down. He held the mistletoe over both their heads and pressed a smacking kiss to his cheek, obnoxious enough to not be too intimate. “Ah, you’re so close to Yugyeomie, you have to kiss him now too,” Jackson said, sounding regretful. 

 

Jinyoung had murder in his eyes. It seemed like a good idea for Yugyeom to just get it over with. From where he had been pulled down, almost against Jinyoung’s chest, he couldn’t really reach his cheek, though. Instead, he leaned up just a little and pressed a soft kiss to his jaw. Jinyoung froze up under his lips and he smiled, casting a shy look at the camera. Even if it was for a game, even if it was just fanservice, it was nice to feel the skin warm under his lips and the heart beat hard against his shoulder. 

 

“Ah, now it’s over Youngjae,” Bambam sighed. “Jackson-hyung is going to end up making everybody do it at this rate.”

 

Most of them laughed. Jinyoung’s sounded forced. His arm didn’t let up, keeping Yugyeom close to him as Youngjae turned excitedly in his lap and grabbed the youngest’s face. Youngjae let out a bright laugh before leaning in and pressing a warm, firm kiss to his temple. Yugyeom’s face scrunched up, but he didn’t fight it and was mostly just relieved he didn’t try to kiss him for real like Bambam did. 

 

When it was over, though, he was relieved to see Jackson distracted with trying to tell their leader he was  _ definitely  _ under with Youngjae and he  _ had _ to kiss him. Backed up by Mark’s new slogan of  _ Traditions are important _ , Youngjae climbed off of Yugyeom’s lap, the camera following him as Bambam tried to get the best angle. 

 

With the others loudly clamoring for kisses, Yugyeom looked up at Jinyoung again, tugging at the fingers hanging over his chest. “Sorry, Jinyoungie,” he said softly. 

 

His eyes fell down from where they were watching the others, Youngjae trying to press kisses to Jaebeom’s face despite it being covered by his hands, and he looked at him with a raised brow. “It’s hyung to you and you know it,” he admonished, flicking his nose gently. 

 

Yugyeom huffed, trying to sit up only to have the arm around him hold him just firmly enough to make him give up. If he wanted, he could push past it, and he knew that, but the fact that he knew it didn’t mean he wanted to. “I just know this isn’t what you were thinking of when you put all that up. You did a lot.”

 

“It’s fun for the fans,” Jinyoung replied easily, but there was a tightness around his eyes in the form of whiskers that didn’t come with a smile. “Sorry you keep getting caught.”

 

Yugyeom shrugged some. “I don’t mind it that much. It’s weird it’s always me, though.”

 

At a shout, they both looked up to see Bambam chasing down Jackson, who was in turn trying desperately to catch Mark under the outstretched mistletoe. All three of their rap line were laughing, though, so it wasn’t too concerning. 

 

“It’ll calm down soon,” Jinyoung promised him. 

 

He was, of course, wrong.

 

***

 

After the catastrophe that was the first live of their party, Yugyeom thought that would be it. The mistletoe had done it’s job and he could relax. Only he  _ couldn’t _ , apparently. Despite not needing to do it anymore, Bambam and Youngjae got caught in the kitchen doorway. (They settled with a cheek kiss, that snake bastard.) Mark and Jaebeom tried to pretend they weren’t under the one Yugyeom hadn’t seen by the hall, but Jackson pushed and teased until Mark sighed and pulled their leader down to kiss the tip of his nose. 

 

That kiss had reminded him he didn’t know how many sprigs were decorating their home. It also reminded him that maybe if it was with Mark it would be okay. He wasn’t going to do too much. It also was the kiss that seemed to calm everyone down. The seven of them sat down to have dinner and pulled out another live while they ate, camera set up on a little tripod at the end of the table where it could see all of them and Bambam, Yugyeom, and Mark checking comments continuously. They got a few ideas for their movie later, they ate good food, they teased one another. 

 

(Yugyeom was never going to live down the ‘nothing on my lips’ thing. He needed to accept that.)

 

The live ended again and they cleared the table together. It went quickly with all of them working on it, Youngjae and Jinyoung in the kitchen doing dishes together, Jackson putting food away, the rest of them bringing dishes in from the other room so that the kitchen didn’t overload too quickly. 

 

Unfortunately, that’s where Yugyeom forgot again. Forgot all about the mistletoe, even though he’d been caught twice in the entry to the kitchen. That was the worst one, he decided. 

 

As he was coming out of the kitchen, Mark was ducking in with a plate in his hands. It was a quick moment, shouldn’t have mattered at all, but Bambam was right behind him and he let out a shout. 

 

“Ah! Mark-hyung and Yugyeomie!” 

 

“What?” Yugyeom asked, turning to see what he was talking about. He and Mark looked up at the same time, to where he was pointing at the now familiar sprig of mistletoe in the doorway. 

 

From the sink, there was a splash and Jinyoung turned around. “That’s enough, Bambam. We’ve played that game long enough.”

 

“You’re just jealous-” he started, only to be silenced by a look from Jaebeom on the other side of Mark and Yugyeom. 

 

(What would he be jealous of? Maybe the skinship. He did like that.)

 

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Jaebeom said with an air of finality that came with being the leader. It seemed like the most logical way to handle it anyway. 

 

Yugyeom gave him a small smile in thanks and started to move through the doorway again but Mark’s hand on his waist made him pause. “No,” he said softly. “Traditions are important, remember?” 

 

Dammit. 

 

One of Mark’s thin hands slid up and caught the back of Yugyeom’s neck, pulling him a little closer. He started to lean down, but Mark wasn’t aiming for his face. His lips met the base of Yugyeom’s throat and blood rushed into his cheeks at that. He wondered if Mark could feel him swallow nervously, if it felt weird. If he could feel the uptick in his racing pulse. 

 

“That’s  _ enough _ ,” Jinyoung said again, this time closer. When Yugyeom opened his eyes (When had he closed them?) and looked, Jinyoung was standing much closer, hands dripping soap and water onto the floor where they were clenched into fists at his sides. He looked murderous, angry, and Yugyeom immediately felt guilty. He wasn’t sure what for, but he was definitely guilty of  _ something _ . 

 

Mark pulled away from him and met Jinyoung’s look with a steady one of his own and then had the audacity to smile politely at him. “Just a game, right Jinyoungie?” he said, and Yugyeom couldn’t figure out the air of challenge that held in it. What was he challenging him for? Why was this game so weird? Was it even a game? And why did he feel like he was  _ losing _ at it?

 

With a huff, Jinyoung stomped forward and shoved Yugyeom out of the doorway, storming off to his own room and leaving them all standing blankly in the kitchen with the dishes half done. 

 

“Should I apologize?” Yugyeom asked after a moment of silence. 

 

Jaebeom and Jackson turned to look at him, the rest taking some unspoken cue to go back to cleaning up. “For what?” Jaebeom asked. 

 

Yugyeom shrugged. “I don’t know. Usually when he gets mad, I just apologize when it gets to be too much, even if I don’t know what for.”

 

Jackson rolled his eyes and moved closer to wrap his arms around their maknae. (If Yugyeom had to take a moment to check for mistletoe again, no one could blame him.) “Jinyoungie is just being stupid. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

 

Yugyeom wasn’t sure about that, but he let it go, giving their Chinese rapper a squeeze before trying to pry himself away. Not unexpectedly, this didn’t work at all and it only took a few minutes for Jackson to coax giggles out of him, followed by Bambam, and before they knew it, things were cleared away. 

 

Jinyoung returned in time for cookies and, per usual, put on his perfectly happy face for the last live of the party. Sugar cookies and gingerbread men were all laid out on the table for the camera to see and as they decorated and munched on cookies, everything seemed to calm down again. Bambam made a cookie of himself, Jackson made one of Mark, Youngjae went entirely silent for ten full minutes while he painstakingly (and badly) drew tiny birds on a Christmas tree to represent aghases. They narrowly avoided another all out icing war like the one that took place earlier in the day. 

 

It was getting late, though, and the cookies were all finished. The seven of them wished the fans watching a happy holiday, promised to give cookies to friends and family so they didn’t eat too many of them, and then signed off to go watch their movie. 

 

As Mark pulled up  _ The Year Without Santa Claus _ , which Yugyeom had yet to see, the rest of them started arranging themselves on the couches, spreading out a little more than before now that they wouldn’t have to fit everyone into frame on the camera. 

 

Yugyeom took the little sofa, the one Mark insisted on calling a loveseat despite there being plenty of room for two full grown men to not have to cuddle on it. He was sprawling out comfortably when Jackson dropped down beside him with a grin. 

 

“Yugyeomie,” he said in greeting. 

 

Yugyeom looked up from his phone. “Jackson…?”

 

Slowly, he moved closer, crowding into the maknae’s space and pushing him down onto the arm of the sofa. “You don’t pay attention at all, do you?”

 

“What?”

 

“Jackson,” Jinyoung warned, a note of panic in his voice that was almost covered by fury. 

 

Yugyeom didn’t get a chance to ask what he didn’t pay attention to, or why Jinyoung was angry, because Jackson dipped down and pressed a warm kiss to his lips. Jinyoung shouted again, but Jackson didn’t let up. One hand came to Yugyeom’s jaw, holding him in place as he kissed him. 

 

Yugyeom was aware, somewhere in the back of his mind, that he should kiss him back, or maybe he shouldn’t? He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to be doing, but a resounding  _ nothing _ was probably not it. Jackson’s lips were moving against his, not invasive but more steamy than any of the other kisses had been so far and it was enough of a shock that Yugyeom couldn’t find it in himself to move. 

 

It ended abruptly, with Jackson being yanked away and dragged practically across the room. From where he was leaned back on the arm of the sofa, Yugyeom’s eyes landed on the mistletoe attached to the wall over the loveseat right before Jinyoung yanked it down.  _ Oh _ . 

 

“You always have to take things just a little too far, don’t you?” he snapped, rounding on the rapper and storming forward. “Did you even ask if you could do that? If you could kiss him like that?”

 

Jackson pulled away from Jaebeom and straightened his shirt, meeting Jinyoung’s anger with an easy confidence. “Did you ask him before you hung that all over the dorm?”

 

Jinyoung’s fist closed, ruining the little twig, the little leaves, the little red bow. “It wasn’t like that,” he insisted. 

 

Before he could go on, Jackson challenged him again. “No? What was it like then? You put it all up and then called all of us to say there was a party, you put together all this food and this live and you use it as an excuse so you don’t get caught and you get mad when someone else steps on your toes? Is that what it’s like?”

 

Jinyoung’s knuckles were white with how tightly his fists were gripped at his sides. Jaebeom stepped forward again, putting a hand to Jackson’s chest and trying to push him back. “That’s enough,” he said firmly, casting a look at Yugyeom over his shoulder. 

 

Why was he looking at him? Why were Mark and Bambam looking at him? Why did ti seem like everyone knew something he didn’t? His mind was racing fast enough to make his head hurt, an ache behind his eyes as everything came to it’s boiling point. 

 

“We can’t all just do whatever we want, Jackson,” Jinyoung spit. “You just do whatever you want and damn the consequences-”

 

Jackson cut him off with a wild laugh. “ _ Me _ ? I’m not the one who started a kissing game he couldn’t handle and couldn’t finish!  _ You’re _ the one who can’t deal with these consequences, Jinyoung, not me.”

 

“Please stop fighting,” Yugyeom said softly, curling in on himself on the little sofa and feeling flashbacks to the pranks they’d pulled on him before, where they fought and it hurt and it scared him. “Don’t fight.”

 

All six of his hyungs turned to look at him and the tension in the room halted it’s rise. Bambam moved to his side, wrapping an arm around him and squeezing tight. “It’s okay,” he mumbled, shooting an accusing look at the pair of them. “It’s okay.” 

 

“This wouldn’t even be a problem if you hadn’t kissed him like that, Jinyoung snapped, unable to let it drop just yet. 

 

“This wouldn’t be a problem if  _ you _ would take the chance you made for yourself!” Jackson shot back instantly. 

 

“How was I supposed to do that with all five of you all over him this whole time?” Their voices were rising, the both of them getting closer again and Yugyeom was shrinking into Bambam’s side and the things they were saying were making less and less sense the more he put them together. “It’s easy to have fun with it, but when it’s serious it gets hard, Jackson!”

 

Jackson’s hands flew in the air, a helpless, frustrated gesture that meant nothing but made Yugyeom flinch all the same. “Then be serious! Just tell him! He’s right there and he’s scared and you’re fighting with me instead.”

 

“ _ Enough _ ,” Jaebeom said again, stepping fully between them and pushing them apart. “That’s enough from both of you. Jackson, go sit down. Jinyoung-” 

 

He didn’t get a chance to give him an instruction. Jinyoung turned once to look at their teary maknae, hesitated, then turned and stormed off to his room again. 

 

Silence hung thick in the room, heavy enough to suffocate. Bambam was still holding Yugyeom tightly, one arm around him and the other holding his hand. His rings bit into Yugyeom’s fingers enough to hurt, but it grounded him so he didn’t mention it. 

 

Carefully, Mark crossed the room and knelt in front of Yugyeom, pulling him down into a hug with him too. “It’s okay,” he said softly. “Jinyoungie is just frustrated, but it’s okay. Don’t be scared.” 

 

Yugyeom nodded, allowing himself a few deep breaths before he pulled away and wiped at his face. He wasn’t crying, but it still felt necessary to wipe away some of the emotion he couldn’t contain. “I… I need to go talk to him.”

 

“Maybe you should wait,” Bambam suggested. 

 

He shook his head, shrugging them both off and standing up carefully. “No. I want to talk to him now. I think I need to.”

 

“Yugyeom-ah?” Jackson said softly, his voice low and gravelly and hesitant. “Listen, I’m sorry I kissed you like that. I just-”

 

“It’s okay,” he interrupted. “It’s fine. I think… I get it. I think I understand.”

 

Another heavy silence. Despite saying he needed to talk to him, Yugyeom just stood there for a moment, processing. 

 

He was the one who was scared. He was the one they had spent the whole day kissing. He was the one who was here when the mistletoe went up. He was the one who didn’t get a call about the party. So if there was something Jinyoung was serious about, it had to be him, right? 

 

God. Let it be him. 

 

Finally, Bambam got up from where he was still on the sofa. “Youngjae, let’s take down the mistletoe,” he said suggested. 

 

“We’ll all help,” Jaebeom agreed, helping Mark to his feet and going to the kitchen to take down their worst offender. 

 

Jackson stayed behind a moment, moving to Yugyeom’s side and touching his arm. He seemed to want to say something, but nothing came out. 

 

“It’s okay, hyung,” Yugyeom murmured. “I think I can be serious too.”

 

With a small smile that he hoped was reassuring, he made his way to Jinyoung’s room and tried to handle. Locked. A soft knock was his next option, following by, “Jinyoungie?”

 

“What?” he snapped from the other side of the door. 

 

Yugyeom shifted nervously in place, tapping his head against the door. “Can I come in? I want to talk.” He was met with silence long enough to make him nervous. “Jinyoung-hyung, please let me in.”

 

Another long silence, but just as Yugyeom was ready to ask again, the lock clicked. The door didn’t open, but it unlocked and Yugyeom took that as enough of a sign to open it for himself and slip in. It felt oddly symbolic that they did it that way. Jinyoung didn’t invite him, but he let him know he was welcome. That’s what Jinyoung had always done. Why would this be any different. 

 

Inside, Jinyoung stood in the middle of the room, fidgeting nervously, a book in his hand that he was clearly not reading. His brow was pulled down in irritation, the whiskers by his eyes pulled with tension instead of a smile again. 

 

They stood in silence for a moment before Yugyeom spoke. “There was no party, right?”

 

Jinyoung shook his head, just the barest bit. He could have lied, but it seemed pointless to do so now. 

 

“You put the mistletoe up for you and me?”

 

No reply. He didn’t expect one. That was enough of an answer, though. “Jinyoungie, why?” he was careful to keep anything accusing out of his tone, anything hurt or worried, but he didn’t stop the little bit of hope that twined with the curiosity. 

 

Jinyoung looked up at him briefly, then turned away, putting the book on the shelf and starting to tindy it needlessly. There was nothing to tidy. It was just something to do with his hands, he supposed. At another prompting, his shoulders pulled tighter. “You’re not stupid, Yugyeom-ah. You know why.”

 

Taking a few cautious steps closer, he answered. “Yeah, but I want you to say it.”

 

The silence dragged out. Jinyoung didn’t pretend to tidy the books. He didn’t fuss with them at all. He stayed stock still. It dragged on long enough that Yugyeom felt the itch to break the tension in the back of his throat, urging his tongue to say something. He held off, though, and finally was rewarded with Jinyoung’s quiet confession. 

 

“Because I like you.” A beat of silence followed, but before he could say anything, Jinyoung went on. “Because I wanted to kiss you but I wasn’t sure if you would want to kiss me. I thought- I thought if you had a reason to do it, like an excuse, maybe you would want to and we could figure it out, and I was going to make cookies with  _ just _ you and then I realized that would seem like- like a date, maybe, and that if you didn’t want to kiss me you would think I was pressuring you into it and I don’t want that, Yugyeom-ah. I want you to get there yourself, but then I got everyone here and it all just- I should have known this would happen. I should have known they would be like this. They can’t let anything go, ever, and I didn’t-”

 

“Hyung,” Yugyeom interrupted, stooping beside him and putting a hand on Jinyoung’s shoulder. He tugged, waiting until he was finally looking at him, for Jinyoung to look him in the eye before he went on. “Is there any mistletoe in your room?”

 

Jinyoung tensed up again, drawing back some before he shook his head. “It’s all hung in the dorm.”

 

“Good,” Yugyeom nodded, then leaned forward and pressed his lips to Jinyoung’s gently. 

 

Under his hand and his lips, Jinyoung melted, then jerked back abruptly. “You don’t have to, Yugyeom. Just because I-”

 

“I want to,” he replied, his confidence draining quickly. “This is what I want. Come here, hyung.”

 

Jinyoung hesitated, searching Yugyeom’s face for something, and he must have found it. A smile split his own face, too happy for him to cover, and the whiskers at his eyes finally returned for the reason Yugyeom liked best. His hands lifted, holding Yugyeom’s face gently as he leaned forward and pressed their lips together again. 

 

“Don’t kiss the others anymore,” he ordered between kisses, but it sounded a little like a plea. 

 

“But what if there’s mistletoe?” Yugyeom teased, laughing softly when Jinyoung pulled back to flick his nose. 

 

“I don’t care. Only kiss me. Okay?”

 

He took a moment, pretending to think about it, then grinned and leaned forward. “Only if you promise to only kiss me too.”

 

“Deal.”

**Author's Note:**

> I have a lot of very strong feelings about Jingyeom. Come yell at me about them on twitter or in my curiouscat! Both are under the name 6uglyguysandjae


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